


Midsomer OT3 Collection

by tea_for_lupin



Category: Midsomer Murders - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2019-11-06 05:54:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17934110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_for_lupin/pseuds/tea_for_lupin
Summary: Just some drabbles and short fics about everyone's favourite trio from Midsomer, snippets that don't necessarily fit in a longer story. Rating and warnings may change as collection progresses; see tags for more details.





	1. Settling a bet

‘So, Ben,’ Sarah said, plonking herself down on the couch between him and John, and snuggling in. ‘We need you to help us settle a bet.’

Ben raised his eyebrows. ‘A bet?’ 

‘Mmm.’ 

He shrugged. ‘All right.’ 

Sarah beamed at him, and Ben dropped a kiss onto her nose. ‘Oh good! Well. You remember the first time we asked you to, ahem, join us?’ Ben nodded, a little warily. ‘John and I were wondering whether you _really_ had to go to visit your Gran that night, like you said.’

‘Or,’ John put in, ‘was that just a polite way of giving yourself some space to think about the offer?’

Ben felt his face heat up. ‘That was true! Look, I know it sounded like an excuse, but it really wasn’t. I thought you believed me, anyway?’

‘Well, I did at first,’ Sarah admitted, ‘but then I thought about it and started to wonder.’ 

‘I wouldn’t use my _Gran_ as an excuse!’

‘That’s what _I_ said,’ John said. He smiled smugly at Sarah. ‘You owe Sykes one marrow bone.’

  
  
  
  


**************************

Inspired by a friend's response to [An Open Invitation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17598305), wondering whether Ben really did need to go and water his Gran's roses that night... just wanted to clear things up!*

*however as we all know the author is dead,** so, you know. Headcanon away. 

**they had vital information to impart to someone but couldn't give it over the phone.


	2. Dinner

They picked up Indian on the way home, found Sarah already there. She had her feet up and her nose in a novel, Sykes snoozing by her side. Her face lit up when Ben and John walked in. ‘Hello, you,’ she said to John as he bent to kiss her, peering over the top of her glasses at Ben in a way that had no right to be so endearing. Or, god help him, so hot. ‘Well, _this_ is a pleasant surprise for a Friday night.’

‘Hungry?’ John asked, hefting the takeaway bag.

‘Mmm, yes.’ Sarah didn’t take her eyes from Ben. ‘Or did you mean, for dinner?’ 

‘Dinner first,’ John said firmly, and headed towards the kitchen.


	3. Sleep talk and dreams

Sarah hummed and snuggled in to rest her head on John’s shoulder. ‘You were talking in your sleep just before.’ 

‘Pearls of wisdom, I presume?’ 

‘Pearls of _interesting_ , anyway.’ She propped herself up on one elbow and trailed the fingers of her other hand over his collarbone and down his chest. 

‘Mmm?’ 

‘Mmm. You mentioned Ben a few times.’ 

Dream-memories slammed back into John’s consciousness. Jones—Ben—blocking him up against a wall with his superior height, arms braced to either side of John’s shoulders to stop him moving away. They had been chasing someone—something—but the details slipped through the cracks, leaving him pinned between Ben’s arms. Jones’ arms. Ben’s; and Ben’s mouth was on John’s and Ben was kissing him, hard enough to leave him fighting for breath.

‘…Ah.’ John’s cock, morning-stiff, twitched, and he groaned softly as Sarah reached down to stroke it through the covers. ‘ _How_ did I mention him, exactly?’

‘Well,’ Sarah said, drawing the word out with the same teasing caress she was giving him, ‘it was a bit garbled. But the bit where you said “God, yes, just like that, Jones,” was pretty clear.’

‘I could have been talking about anything, you know,’ John protested; Sarah raised her eyebrows. ‘But, well. I wasn’t.’ 

‘Details, please.’ 

John bucked up into Sarah’s insistent hand then rolled over to face her, pulling her in close for a hungry kiss. She wrapped a leg over his. ‘Well, I don’t remember all of it, of course, dreams being dreams. And—’ he pulled back a moment, eyes serious ‘—I’m not sure it’s the kind of thing I should share. Jones and I are colleagues, after all.’

‘No one can help what they dream, John.’

‘No-o, but I _can_ choose not to dwell on it, especially when—’ John rolled them both over until he was on top of Sarah, ground his erection into her thigh ‘—when I have everything I need right here.’

Sarah pushed back up against him greedily, but said, ‘I told you about that dream _I_ had about Isabelle Derwent, the Fourth Form coordinator.’

‘That was different.’

‘It was not.’

‘It was. In your dream, she was a flying horse who was trying to get you to embezzle school funds by investing in the cheese market.’

‘I’m still not convinced that was a completely bad idea, you know.’

‘Nonetheless. It is _entirely_ different from dreaming about your direct subordinate snogging your face off.’

Sarah grinned wickedly. ‘Oh, so that’s what Ben was doing in your dream, was he? Anything else?’

John pressed a trail of nipping, biting kisses down her neck. ‘ _You_ are a very tricky customer.’


End file.
